The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles

Chapter 3: A Bodyguard’s Day

by mypenname3000

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.

“Morning, Emine,” she answered, kissing up my chest, nuzzling my neck, and then her lips found mine.

I enjoyed my partner’s kiss.

We were the last two of the original bodyguards left, chosen that wonderful day in June when we competed for the opportunity to serve the Living Gods. Two out of twelve. Eight of our original sisters had fallen defending Mark and Mary, three in June when the nuns attacked, and five in September during Brandon’s assault. The last two, 15 and 16, had retired with our Gods’ blessing, reuniting with their loved ones.

Even though the Gods used their powers to make us their bodyguards, we had chosen to stay when they set us free after Brandon’s attack. They were important, and I had sworn to protect and serve when I joined the Bonney Lake Police Force two years ago, and who were more important to the world to protect than the very Gods fighting the darkness?

No-one.

I kissed Jan on the lips. In our bedroom we could be our real selves, use our real names. Out there she was 23 and I was 24, but in here we were Jan and Emine; this was our safe haven, the place we could retreat to and relax. In here, we weren’t on duty, and could be ourselves and love each other.

My hands roamed round breasts, my fingers finding her hard nipples; she squirmed and moaned into my lips, her tongue becoming more aggressive in my mouth. I shifted, pushing her onto her back and—

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Dammit!” Jan hissed, reaching over to slap our alarm. We were on duty today, and that was more important than fooling around.

“Maybe we should shower together,” I whispered. “You know, conserve some water.”

“What a wonderful idea,” she purred.

Giggling, we stumbled across our hotel room—the second and third floor of the Murano hotel served as the bodyguard’s barracks, and every pair of guards shared a room unless she was married or had a significant other. We passed the second, unused bed to reach the small bathroom. The water was warm—the hotel had some heavy duty water heaters—and Jan jumped in, her sandy-blonde hair matted to her slick body.

She beckoned, “Come get me, sexy!”

I joined her, my dusky body pressing against her, and we kissed beneath the shower’s spray. I grabbed the body wash and a loofah, squirting the fragrant soap—lilac—into the puffy, pink sponge, and rubbed Jan’s delightful tits.

Her legs wrapped around my thighs, and her hot pussy pressed against me; she humped. “Oh, yes! I’m almost clean,” she gasped. “Just a little bit more!”

“Are you that horny?” I asked in shock. My thigh was soaked, and not with water.

“We’re going to be on TV today,” she gasped. “Most of the world is going to see me dressed like a complete slut! My tits will be practically hanging out, and my skirt’s so short they might catch a flash of my naked ass! Oh, fuck!”

She shook and gasped, and drenched my leg with her passion. More and more juices flooded my leg and I smelled something acrid. “Dirty bitch,” I laughed. “Did you just piss on my leg?”

“Oh, yes!” she gasped, still cumming and peeing on me! “Oh, fuck that feels wonderful!”

She shook one last time, and gave one last spurt of piss before she relaxed and panted, a smile painted on her face. She caressed my cheeks, than Jan leaned in and planted a wet kiss right on my lips, soft and gentle and full of her wonderful tongue. My dusky hands slid up, grasping her shoulders, then I forced her down.

“You’re going to pay for pissing on me,” I smiled.

“Do it!” she groaned. “Piss on my face!”

I pushed my pussy right over her and relaxed my bladder. My yellow stream struck her right between the eyes. She squeezed them shut and opened her mouth, drinking my piss mixed with shower water. I wiggled my hips, letting my spray splash around her face. My pussy was on fire, tingling with pleasure.

I grinned at her, grabbing her blonde hair and pulled her face into my pussy. “Drink my piss, then lick my Turkish cunt!”

She swallowed the last of my stream, then her tongue pushed into my cunt, and my little, White whore devoured my pussy. She sucked and licked, and I leaned against the shower wall and moaned my passion.

“That’s it! Eat me, whore! You White girls love to eat pussy!”

I humped my face into her pussy. I loved making a White girl eat me out. Besides Jan, my favorite White girl was sweet Cindy. Her first night as a maid, Cindy had learned to love drinking my piss right here in this shower as much as she had learned to love my pussy. That little kitten had a hot mouth; Dr. Willow had outdone herself with the maid selection. They were all hot bitches ready to drop to their knees and worship your snatch.

Jan’s tongue worked deep in her, lapping at her pussy like a cute kitten. Her orgasm crested inside her, and she shuddered and almost slipped, grasping the shower bar and stumbling back. Jan looked up at her, licking her lips, concern on her face.

“You okay, Emine?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

“I made you cum that hard, huh?” she giggled, pulling herself up.

“You always do,” I told her. “Now, let’s get showering, we can’t be late for the morning briefing.”

“I love you, Emine,” she purred.

I smiled, and stroked her pale face. “I love you, too.”

We had to finish showering in a hurry, and threw on our uniforms: navy blue blouses, half-unbuttoned, tucked into very short, blue skirts cinched with out tactical belts; thigh-high, black leather boots; and our most important piece of gear, our enchanted, bronze amulets. They could stop almost any bullet. Sam’s invention had saved more than a few of our lives.

I noticed a package sitting on the bed, wrapped in red paper dotted with white cupids. Where had that come from. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jan grinned when she saw my questioning glance.

I flushed. “Oh, no, I completely spaced. I didn’t get you anything.”

She smiled. “I know. You’ll just have to make it up to me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’re off duty, and you’re taking me out to a wonderful dinner, right?”

“Er, right. Yeah. It’ll be nice and romantic.”

She leaned in and kissed me. “I can’t wait.”

I wanted to open my present but, thanks to our long shower, we were running late, and it would have to wait until this evening when we were off duty. I gave her one last kiss, then we stepped out of our rooms and became 23 and 24.

Morning briefing was held in a small conference room, the Paradise Hall. It was lined with folding chairs before a podium. One wall was dominated by a mural of Paradise up on Mount Rainier, a beautiful field of flowers towered over by the majestic mountain. 51 stood at the podium, her blouse completely unbuttoned and draping around her pregnant belly. The other bodyguards trooped in, save squad H who were guarding the Hotel right now.

“Good morning,” 51 said when everyone had entered.

“Morning,” we all echoed back. We were all seated by squad; 23 commanded Squad B, and I served as her second-in-command.

“We have a big day today,” 51 continued, clicking a remote and the laptop hooked up to an overhead projector started up the PowerPoint slide show. An image of the Tacoma Museum of Art appeared, a brick structure with large windows built next to a second, cone shaped building made entirely of glass. “The Tribute to the Goddess opens today, and Mary, Antsy, and Via will be visiting the gallery to examine the exhibit.”

For the next thirty minutes, 51 detailed the security plan; we had all been briefed on it before, but you didn’t take chances with security. Going over the plan one last time wouldn’t hurt. Squad’s A, B, C were tasked with security, supplemented with a company of the Legion. Squad’s A and C would secure the exterior, while our Squad would arrive early to secure the interior, including the four young artists whose works were being exhibited and were being allowed to meet Mary.

“Are we all on the same page?” 51 asked at the end.

There was a general nod.

“Good. Next, Squad D and E will be escorting Missy and Damien to a Valentine’s day dance at Washington High School…”

After the briefing, Squad B headed straight for the Museum in a convoy of Black SUV’s. It was a short drive, we could have walked the four blocks, and we staged our vehicles in the back. We left our AR-15s secure in our vehicles, we wouldn’t need the assault rifles for interior security, and walked up to the entrance.

The doors opened and a rotund man stepped out in a white, buttoned down shirt and black slacks, a radio and can of mace hanging from his belt. Around his right wrist was a bright-red medical bracelet; he was a Wormwood survivor, safe to walk around without risk of falling ill to the plague that only struck men. There hadn’t been a case in a month in the Western United States, but the disease still persisted in other parts of the world and the quarantine was still in place. Any man who hadn’t fallen ill had to stay home.

“Mr. Upton,” 23 nodded to the head of security for the Museum.

“Everything’s ready,” he answered. “My men have cleared out of the exhibits wing, and the artists are waiting in a small annex.”

“Good,” 23 said, and we strode in.

The members of our squad knew what to do, and took their positions around the wing of the museum where the exhibit was being displayed. Paintings of Mary abounded on the walls. From stylized versions that barely seemed to resemble the Goddess, to hyperrealistic depictions of her naked, wreathed in flames, standing triumphant over Brandon’s corpse.

23 and I would take care of searching the four artist who had the privilege of meeting Mary. They were young, teens or early twenties, and all beautiful. Korina had run the selection committee, and she chose the girls that not only were talented artists, but would also please Mary. All four were standing nervous, and they swallowed when they saw us.

“You have to be searched before you can meet the Goddess,” I declared.

The Japanese girl caught my eye as she stared demurely at the floor. 23 saw my interest and gave just the tiniest nod of her head. One of the perks of the job was searching pretty, young girls. I marched up to the shy girl, her lovely face framed by her black hair. She stiffened when I stopped in front of her, then trembled.

“Strip,” I ordered.

She blinked at me, and I put on my no-nonsense cop face, and her expression paled, then her hands reached up and slowly undid the little, ivory buttons. Her skin was creamy-olive beneath, contrasting with the plain, white bra that covered her tiny titties. Her blouse slid to the floor, then she unzipped the side of her skirt and stepped out of it. Her panties were the same, plain white.

“Everything!”

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, and reached behind her back, her tiny hands trembling, and fumbled at the clasp of her bra. I gasped when her tiny tits, little buds, topped with small, brown nipples, peaked out. Then she hooked her hands into the waistband of her panties, wiggled her hips, and shimmied them down.

Her pussy was adorned with a sparse coating of fine, black hair, her slit virginally tight. I licked my lips as I ravished her with my eyes. Such a cute, little kitten for me to play with. I licked my finger, then reached out and rubbed her nipple; it grew hard, like a little bud. Her slanted eyes widened, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. I let my finger trail down her ribs, across her flat stomach, found the V of her pubic bone, then journeyed across her pubic mound. I reached her pubic hair and toyed with a silky strand of it.

“I’m going to do a cavity search, balim,” I purred to my little kitten.

“Okay,” she whispered.

I slid my finger lower, down between her thighs and stroked her vulva. Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted as her breath quickened. I pushed her labia aside and found her small clitoris, and I stroked it with my thumb.

“Oh, wow!” she gasped. “What are you…”

“A cavity search, balim.”

I pushed my finger up inside her. She sucked in a breath, her back straightening. I worked my digit in deep; despite having no hymen, this was clearly virgin territory. Her school was clearly neglecting their sex education program. Her cunt gripped my finger like a tight glove, hot and juicy.

“Not finding anything yet,” I purred, then I licked a finger on my left hand.

“I think you’ve…ohh…explored enough…” she panted.

“Not yet, balim.”

I reached around with my left hand, squeezing her tight rear, and questing between her cheeks for her anus. I found the puckered sphincter, and teased her asshole with my damp finger. She stared at me and shook her head in protest.

“Sorry, I have to do a thorough job.”

I shoved my finger up her ass.

“Ah!” she gasped

Her asshole was even tighter than her pussy, and I stirred both her holes up. Her chest heaved, and she bit her lower lip as pleasure cascaded through her. I pumped faster, savoring the heat of her tunnels. Her hips jerked; a soft moan escaped her lips.

“Uh…uh…” she grunted; her cunt and ass clenched down on my fingers. Her body quavered and trembled and I savored her orgasm. One last whimper escaped her, then I pulled my fingers out and tasted first her sweet pussy, and then her sour ass.

“You’re clean,” I pronounced, standing up.

23 smiled at me; she had searched one of the teens, a busty blonde, and was working her fingers into the ass of a lithe, Black teen. A nerdy brunette watched, her eyes wide behind her silver-rimmed glasses. I strolled on over to the nerdy girl, suppressing my smile. I loved this job!

“Strip.”

Mary arrived an hour later, sweeping into the hall with Antsy, Mark’s younger sister, and Via, Antsy’s girlfriend, accompanied by Debra Horne-Darnell, one of the few reporters allowed near the Gods—she had been bound to them a few weeks ago. She was followed by a maid carrying her camera.

Mary wore a flowing gown of dark blue, the skirt cinched right below her breasts and falling loose around her pregnant belly. Antsy and Via were dressed casually in miniskirts and tight, flowery tops. They were both beautiful, Antsy had black hair and a heart-shaped face set with big, hazel eyes. Via also was raven-haired, though hers was streaked with red highlights, and her breasts were bigger, jiggling beneath her tight blouse. But Mary’s beauty eclipsed them both, a smile on her radiant, freckled face, and her auburn hair falling in a wave around her face and shoulders. No woman was more beautiful than my Goddess.

The four artists, still naked, prostrated themselves. Mary ignored them, her eye sweeping across the art, her green eyes lighting up. She was an artist, and painted during her free time, and she became giddy as she went from exhibit to exhibit. Then she noticed the cute, Japanese teen trembling naked before a large painting of Mary, flames dancing across her skin, and her foot planted on the back of Brandon’s neck.

“Did you paint this?” Mary asks with a purr.

“Yes, my Goddess,” quivered the girl.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“Jane Yoshimori.”

Mary touched her face, stroking her cheeks. “It’s almost as beautiful as you are.”

Jane blushed and her little nipples hardened. Mary had that effect on women; when she was around it was hard to notice anything else. You did get used to it, but for someone that had never experienced the Goddess’s presence, it could be quite overwhelming.

“You deserve a reward for such a beautiful painting,” Mary purred. “I’ll pay you $1 million for it.”

“Of course you would. You’ll remember this day for the rest of your life.”

Mary kissed the girl; my cunt grew damp. I had wanted that cute kitten lapping at my pussy, but I was on duty, and that meant no fooling around. Sure I may have given her an orgasm during my cavity search, but that was just a byproduct of doing a thorough job. I watched as the cute thing fell to her knees, her head disappearing beneath Mary’s skirt.

Mary squeezed her emerald eyes shut, and tossed her auburn hair about as pleasure coursed through her. I could see Jane’s head moving beneath Mary’s skirt as she slurped and licked and sucked her Goddess’s pussy.

“Well, I had my eye on that nerdy girl. Look at those glasses. I want to piss all over her face!”

“Oh, you’re so nasty, Antsy!” laughed Via.

The nerdy girl’s face paled as Antsy sauntered on over to her. “You know you love to drink my pee, Via!” she called back.

“Because I’m a nasty pee slut, remember?” Via shouted back, then grabbed the Black teen and kissed her on the lips.

“Are you going to piss on me?” the nerdy girl asked Antsy.

“Yep. Get down on your knees and I’ll teach you to love pee!”

I pressed my thighs together as the nerdy girl reluctantly fell to her knees. She knew better than to disobey a relative of the Living Gods. I wanted so badly to cum, but I remembered my duty. I had witnessed scenes of debauchery like this many times; Mary was a lusty being, and Antsy and Via were just as bad, but no-one held a candle to Mark’s passions. He sometimes would grow bored and would wander into a high school and enjoy as many nubile teens as he could get his hands on. I’m sure he’d fuck them all if there was just enough time.

I tried not to watch the lesbian orgy breaking out too carefully. It was my job to stay alert and watch out for any threats, but it was hard as Antsy lifted her skirt up, squatted, and let loose a stream of piss right on the nerdy girl’s glasses.

I looked over at 23 and we shared a look—tonight we’d be grabbing one of the maids and pissing all over her. Maybe Cindy, if I could pry her away from Violet. Ever since Violet and April’s relationship had imploded a week ago—April had learned that Violet had been cheating on her for months with the cute maid—Cindy had been glued to Violet’s side when she wasn’t performing her maid duties.

“Such a good pee slut!” moaned Antsy, and she pulled the nerdy girl’s face into her cunt.

My breathing increased; my nipples two hard nubs rubbing against the tin fabric of my blouse every time I inhaled, making the fire growing between my legs even harder to enjoy. Mary was screaming, cumming on Jane’s mouth, and Via was on her knees licking the Black girl’s ass, shoving her tongue deep inside the teen’s backdoor.

I endured, holding my position with professionalism like all my fellow sisters in Squad B. Even when Antsy made the poor, nerdy girl get on her hands and knees and lick the pee off the floor. “This is a museum, not a bathroom, so keep it nice and clean whore,” hissed Antsy while she vigorously fingered the teen’s cunt.

Mary wandered over, little Jane in hand; the Japanese girl’s face was smeared with Mary’s juices. I licked my lips, wanting to grab her shoulders and taste Mary’s pussy as I kissed her. She was such a cute Kitten.

“Jane tells me you frisked her,” Mary purred.

“I did, ma’am,” I answered. “I was very thorough.”

“I bet you were. You and your squad have done an excellent job today.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I smiled.

“Jane will be coming back to the hotel tonight. I’m commissioning a few paintings. The girl is truly gifted.”

Jane blushed and fidgeted.

“So I want you to keep on eye on her. She’s not bound, so she’ll have to be carefully watched at all times.” Mary’s smile was knowing as I snapped a salute.

“Yes, ma’am. She won’t leave my sight.”

“Good,” Mary nodded. “Of course, this will cut into your free time, so feel free to pretend you’re off duty while watching her.” She paused, her green eyes twinkling wickedly. “If you feel the need to search her at any time, do not hesitate.”

I fought off a grin, keeping my professional mask. “I won’t, ma’am. You and your husband’s safety are my number one priority.”

“Of course, 24.” Her grin was so naughty.

I caught 23’s eyes across Mary’s shoulder. I causally smoothed my skirt and 23 gave me the barest hint of a nod; we had longed worked out a code—

The floor beneath 23 opened up; surprise flashed across her face, and then she fell with a scream amid the rubble of the floor. My heart seemed to squeeze in pain, and a strangled cry escaped my lips. Then the demons boiled out of the ground; thick, brutish creatures made of obsidian, their facets reflecting the museums lights.

My hand moved without thought. Jan was hurt, maybe dead. I pulled my nextel up, pressed the call button. Jan couldn’t be dead; we were going out to dinner tomorrow. The nextel chirped, connecting me to the network. We were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

“Spectre, spectre, spectre!” I shouted; the code word for a demon attack. The Patriots had struck. Jan will be fine.

I drew my gun; it would be useless against a demon. But what else could I do.

“Copy, spectre!” my nextel crackled. “The Legion’s coming.”

Guns opened fire, bullets harmlessly bounced off the demons. We didn’t have any of the special ammunition enchanted to hurt demons! A spike of obsidian streaked through the air and caught 55 in the throat as she fired at it. She fell in a spray of blood. I grabbed Mary, shoving her roughly behind me, and turned to—

The air was knocked out of my lungs. Pain exploded.

A black spike of obsidian was buried in my chest. I glanced down at in stunned disbelief—the rock was planted right between my breasts—then I toppled back into Mary and—

Screams.

Gunfire.

Crying.

Crystals shattering.

Shouts.

Booted feet.

An explosion.

Automatic gunfire.

“Tsariy!”

Warmth flooded through me. I spasmed; the warmth gathered in my chest, driving out the spike of obsidian buried inside me. I could feel bones knitting, organs repairing, skin growing, covering the hole in my chest. My eyes shot up, and Mary stared down at me, blood splatted across her cheeks, a look of rage on her face.

I struggled up; the museum wing was full of soldiers. Piles of obsidian lay scatted across the floor. A large hole covered one corner where—

“Jan!” I shouted, bolting up. Where was she? I looked around, my heart beating out of control. Where was she! I saw 99 looking down at the body of 56, and I grabbed her shoulders. “Where’s 23?”

She shook her head, pain in her eyes.

My world ended. I staggered and collapsed.

Much later I found myself sitting on our bed, my tears finally dry, Jan’s valentine gift resting on my lap. I was the last of the original bodyguards left. Her body had been found pinned beneath a chunk of concrete in the hole, dead before Mary could have ever reached her. The demons had dug their way from a building three blocks away and she had just been unlucky to be standing beneath their exit. She wasn’t the only death, while our backup rushed in, a second wave of demons had attacked the Legion and Squads A and C. Jan was one of six of the bodyguards slain: one more from our squad, three from Squad C, and one from Squad A.

But we had done our duty and protected our charges. When I had thrust Mary behind me, I took the obsidian spike meant for her. And thanks to 98 and 54, Antsy and Via had made it out alive, rushed down a hallway away from the carnage while Mary, using her powers, held off the demons long enough for backup to arrive.

I sat the present on my nightstand. Maybe tomorrow I would be strong enough to open it.